


where do stars go when it rains? do they hide underneath the ground?

by semishirazawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Day 1: Celebration (kinda), Fireflies, Gen, Happy Birthday Kita-san!, I Tried, KitaBdayWeek2020, Phone Call, the title is awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semishirazawa/pseuds/semishirazawa
Summary: Sometimes phone calls feel better when it rains.
Kudos: 18
Collections: Kita Birthday week 2020





	where do stars go when it rains? do they hide underneath the ground?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Kita-san!

  
The strong gusts of wind send waves of ripples on the meadows at the back of the 3-storey lodge that currently accommodates the Inarizaki High School Volleyball Club. The fireflies scatter in feisty speeds, each seeking shelter from the powerful gales, an unsteady earthly counterpart to the view above held in Shinsuke's watchful eye. The moon above peeks from behind the veils of spontaneous clouds.

Coach Kurosu says that practice matches held with other powerhouse schools are essential as soon as July drops by. The start of July means August will be here soon. And August, for all Japanese high school volleyball clubs, translates to the Interhigh Championship. That is one half of the main reason why Shinsuke is looking out the lodge's open corridor late at night on the 4th of July. The other half of the reason is that the team is still too loud, even after being divided into seven different rooms. 

His beige jumper helps blocks out the cold weather, a towel loosely hanging around his shoulders, his slightly disheveled mostly silver hair still damp from the warm bath. A few drops of water trickle down from his head to his neck, but after a total of 17 sets and 68 jump serves today, he is exhausted enough to let them pass. Still, he raises a tired arm to wipe them away. Because the gods are always watching, and he doesn't want to catch a cold.

The sky above Nara's suburbs is pleasant, distant from the gales that leaves the ground littered with leaves, but Shinsuke can hear faint rumbles—of either thunder and rainclouds or of Aran's, Michinari's and the twins' combined snores that echo throughout the third floor's main hall whose most prominent resident is am antique cuckoo clock; the top floor that is theirs for three days—but no storm shows itself yet. There's a feeling of something missing in the air, an indefinite nostalgia, but Shinsuke can't point out exactly what. Perhaps it's linked with the fact that none of the club members have hinted that they remember his birthday, but he isn't one to be upset over such things.

The winds continue to judder the trees and the trees keep on accompanying the soft rumble. There are frogs croaking at a short distance, so the rains must be arriving soon. Shinsuke looks down to the ground again. A few fireflies still hover around the grasses. He hope that they find shelter too, because life is life, no matter in which form.

The vibrating buzz of a flip phone interrupts the soft thunder. He fishes for his phone in his pocket and takes it out with one arm—he is using the other one to support his weight on the railing he's leaning against. It's his grandmother. He accepts the call without a second thought.

"Shin-chan?" her voice sounds like home although it's tinny and muffled. He lets out a warm sigh of relief. Bright light floods the skies for a fraction of a second. The storm is coming soon.

"Obaa-han. You're up late," he says, fatigue disappearing from his voice with every syllable. It's the magic the voice of a loved one casts, like a mother kissing her child's scraped knee that takes away all the pain.

"So are you, Shin. How was practice?" 

"It was good. The team is fired up and we're set on winning this time. The second years almost had a fight again, though." _I'm exhausted_ , he wants to add as a tiny postscript, but she already knows. Her voice brings a palpable presence to the corridor, a feeling that she's right there with him, and always watching and looking after him. He doesn't need to say it. "What are you doin'?"

She lets out a charming giggle. "Watching constellations. The sky here is really clear today." _As it should be_. Shinsuke isn't particularly fond of away games, as essential they might be to the team's progress. He hasn't got anything against them, either, it's just that him being away from home meant his granny would have to do everything on her own. 

"That's great. Which ones do you see?" He enquires. She had always been enthusiastically teaching him the names of constellations ever since he learnt how to speak, the stars and astronomy never leaving her list of top interests.

"The ryuu, hakuchou and the ya. Which ones can you see from there, Shin?"

"Let's see," he moves his gaze to the sea of half-hidden diamonds above him, not having paid attention to them yet. All he could see in the last 20 minutes were the Wāshi and the Polaris because of the clouds and the city lights, so he lets her know that.

"Pity, isn't it? You know, Shin, other years, you'd be here at home and we would have been bakin' a cake together. Who's the birthday boy?" she chirps and then laughs.

The stoic captain's lips curl up, and he too joins in. If there's anyone that can always bring a smile to his face and lift his spirits, it's his granny. "There are still 10 minutes or so, gran."

"Oh, you! Give time a break this time, Shin! I'm missing you here. It's one of the rare opportunities in the entire year you let me eat cake to my heart's content, you know!?" she playfully scolds him, and Shinsuke realizes that that's exactly what has been weighing him down. Tonight, especially tonight, he misses home.

July 5 is just another day, but it's one that marks down another year full of his memories. Memories that have been crafted with patience and the unyielding diligence of time under the watchful eyes of the gods, which remind him that what once was is as important as what will be. 

"I miss you too, Gran," he says, a subtle smile forming like a light ripple on his face. 

There on, Obaahan begins to describe the day in vivid details, so that Shinsuke doesn't feel like he's missed anything. She begins with the sunrise, and they begin to exchange their days.

They talk, they talk about their indoor plants, they talk about the bees, they talk about the blooming sunflowers, they talk. Thunder continues to rumble. A thunderstorm is fast approaching, the now stronger gale threatening to blow away the towel on Shinsuke's shoulders. 

A sudden nearby flash of lightning reveals a figure approaching him. 

Shinsuke straightens up. He didn't expect anyone to come to their floor. Obaa-han is still narrating the afternoon. The figure looms just a few feet away from him. It is a monster—one of his favourite monsters—tall, quick-tempered, with piss yellow hair. Atsumu abruptly stops when he realizes that Shinsuke is on a call. 

Obaa-han continues to narrate the day away, and Shinsuke divides his attention between three events: his grandmother talking to him on the phone, the towel around his shoulders determined to fall, and Atsumu, who mouths an inaudible _Kita-san_ while gesturing him to follow him. The feeling of being responsible for more than just himself comes back to him, so he decides to effectively take care of it all at the same time. Perhaps Atsumu has a good reason for his actions and an explanation ready if it's something trivial like going to the bathroom alone.

Atsumu guides him to the main hall. On the phone, Yumie-obaahan comes to the day's evening, and although Shinsuke doesn't respond with many words, she knows he's listening, and he knows that she knows.

He bumps into cool gray—it's the colour of Atsumu's jumper—and Atsumu turns back to look at him. 

He puts a finger to his lips. Kita is perplexed. Atsumu grabs onto the handle of the door, and very, very slowly opens it. 

The hall is pitch black. 

There's not a shuffle nor a sound. On the phone, Obaahan reaches dusk, and Kita wants to ask Atsumu what's going on. He raises an eyebrow—

Twelve loud metallic cuckoos makes themselves heard. Someone switches the lights on, the flooding brightness making Shinsuke reflexively shield his eyes. When his vision regains solid ground, there's the whole team smiling in front of him—everyone, including the coaches—and a cake that smells like only the richest of hot cocoas and the daintiest of vanillas. Shinsuke is stunned to silence, but no one else makes a sound. When Shinsuke doesn't speak, his eyes do. His vision blurrs, tears trailing down his cheeks as the rains crash on the grounds outside. Obaa-han whispers through the phone:

"Happy Birthday, Captain Shinsuke-chan!"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> uh... yeah. I don’t know how to end fics.


End file.
